


in dreams (cold of winter)

by dwyndling



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Flower Siblings, Gen, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Reunion, Union Cross spoilers, perhaps loosely implied laurena?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22801063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwyndling/pseuds/dwyndling
Summary: The bones are beginning to reform. A moment longer in the darkness...please, a moment longer to commune with the ghosts.
Relationships: Elrena & Lauriam (Kingdom Hearts), Lauriam & Strelitzia (Kingdom Hearts), Marluxia & Strelitzia (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	in dreams (cold of winter)

_ “C...n….y...e...ar...m..?” _

It is dark, all around, but that must be simply because he has not opened his eyes yet.

_ “S...so….e...in...g.” _

The darkness is somewhat stifling, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like anything at all. Something shifts, and the fibre of his being is jostled. 

_ “L….r….” _

The voice continues, mocking in it’s faintness, so plaintive and far-off that he can’t quite tell if it really exists or not. Does he really exist? Here, in the shadows of the in-between? There is a definite stirring in the darkness, but nothing has been born.

_ “Y...r….a...i...o...g...r.” _

With an audible cracking noise, his lips part. The noise is a comfort, something close and definable, something that lends credence to the idea that yes, he does exist, and isn’t just a fabrication of some cosmic sense of imagination. Or...in so much as anything is or isn’t.

“...hel...hello?”

The voice that answers his ears, the one that seems to rise out of his own throat, is nothing more than a hoarse rasp. A pale imitation of its former self, something that has forgotten how to be and is in the process of remembering.

_ “L...am.” _

Wide blue eyes startle open, and stare blankly at the expanse of nothingness. The void looks back, utterly composed.

_ I was...somewhere else.  _

_ Where was I? And,  _ who _ am I, for that matter. _

His fingers curl, testing the tension within the muscles, and flexing. He is...human, that seems certain. He knows what a human is, at least. 

There is something fluttering beneath the planes of his chest, something ricocheting out an uneven cadence, hammering with an annoying intensity. He places one hand over it in bemusement, unaware why the sensation should feel at once so comforting and so foreign.

_ “Y...c...n...e...m…” _

Again, the phantom of a voice echoes out around him, achingly close but indistinguishable. Faint fragments of words are barely audible beneath the caress of a ghostly wind.

Time does not move, down in the darkness. There is no weather, no sun or moon. And yet the wind whistles around him once more, ruffling his hair where it curls around his face.

_ Really, who was I again? _

With unbearable softness, something traces the edge of his jaw, taking with it something unnameable and leaving him bereft. It is a ghostly excuse of a hand, invisible fingers cold and immaterial.

_ “Wake up.” _

“Who’s...there?” As his awareness returns to him in short bursts, so too does memory. Images of combat fill his mind, the desert wind scraping his face, the weight of leather on his shoulders, the shouts and cries of a struggle.

_ My name...my name was… _

The hands of a ghost continue to prod at his face, and even in their halfway state between reality and nothingness, the sensation is mildly annoying. He swats gently at the touch, mind filtering back into a semblance of what it had been.

_ “You look different.” _

Even squinting, there is nothing to see in the darkness. The voice, still quiet and gentle, but now arranged into coherence, is much closer than it had been.

“Who are you?” Now that the body has begun to remember itself, the voice more closely resembles what it had once been. 

_ “...you don’t remember me, do you. That’s alright. It has been a long time.” _

There is something now clearly resting at the forefront of his shaky memory, begging to be grasped even as he struggles to remember what it was. “Where am I?”

He was calm, in life. Measured and calculated, to a fault. Those familiar wisps of being, the residual habits and ways of thinking now spark to life again, coming to furnish the set of bones that make him up.

_ “You’re nowhere. But you won’t stay here long.” _

“What does that mean?” The memories of design now reveal their hand, the nights spent laying awake, quietly whispering to the person next to him, green eyes that flash approval up at him and whisper back promises of absolute power, words that dripped saccharine sweet.

_ “It means this isn’t where you’re meant to be. That you’ll return whence you came.” _

He’s been here before...he must have been. His body has relearned its shape and timber before, has congealed itself back into what it was more than once. This echoey darkness has sheltered him before...but those memories are devoid of the voice that now accompanies the shadows.

“I ask again, who are you?” That seems to be of burgeoning importance, as more and more the gaps in his memory learn their place. He was cruel. He was looking for maidens of the purest hearts. He was trying...trying to find someone. Someone in particular.

_ “My name doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ll be okay...you’re going to live again.” _

Seemingly resigned, the cold fingers at his face begin to draw away. They leave with them a painful sense of longing, something that sparks in his breast with acuity in it’s intensity.

“Wait-” Before he can think, or dare to hope at any clarity, he reaches out to seize the hands, now gleaming silvery before him in the darkness. They are smaller than his, and the wrists he grasps onto simply fade further into the shadow, a glimmering and translucent pair of gentle hands.

They freeze in his grip, and where his own hands touch, the glimmering silver reveals more of the shape of a forearm. 

_ “You don’t...you don’t remember me.”  _ The voice is almost pained, and perhaps the feeling it sparks within him is what he once would’ve called ‘empathy’.

“Then why won’t you tell me your name? I can’t even remember my own.” 

_ “...can you not?” _

There is something...something nudging at his mental periphery. Something swells, a wave of adamant thought and crystalline understanding, and he barely manages to gasp before it consumes him.

_ Keyblades, masters, war, fighting, empty promises, broken promises, a list, a name, a heart, four friends, a key, thirteen white seats in a circle, a man with silver hair staring impassively down from his high throne, a graveyard, a king, a castle, a young boy and a witch in a birdcage, a green rulebook, a boy with a spark in his eyes and a raven’s feather in his cap, white curls and a sunny grin, a rotund grey creature with a word of encouragement, a quiet voice which spoke of starry skies and empty days, someone small and woefully unprepared for any of this, a keyblade that had curved into thorny vines and blood red roses, a girl with sharp green eyes and a sharper tongue, a-- _

_ A sister. A little sister with pale red hair and a small smile that was only ever for him. _

His lips part helplessly, and suddenly, his eyes spark with a burning and dripping sensation he can only vaguely recall. The weight of years suddenly press upon his shoulders.

_ Marluxia had never cried. That was a sacred act, reserved only for those blessed with humanity. _

Tears drip shamelessly down his face, and he can’t even think to try to stop them.

_ “Don’t cry!!”  _ The ghostly hands pull easily out of his suddenly slack grip, reaching forward to helplessly attempt to brush away at the tears. They slip right through the shining fingers, unable to be halted by the immaterial.

“You-” His voice breaks and he stares up at the empty darkness. “Please tell me your name…!”

_ She loved caring for plants, and the first thing she did after waking up was to help me water the indoor ones. When she moved out to her own place, floors to ceilings were decorated by potted plants, all of which she took excellent care of. Her favorite food was strawberries, and she had a soft spot for rabbits, despite being scared of most animals as a small child. She smiled and waved at strangers when she was little, until she got older and started hiding behind me in public.  _

_ I was so proud of her when she announced she was moving out, since I thought it meant she was finally going to try getting over her shyness. She was so quiet as a child, but brave, and sometimes I felt like she would end up being braver than I could ever be. I had hoped she would finally make some friends of her own...not that I’m really one to talk. _

_ We were so busy, after that. Lux wouldn’t collect itself after all. She used to come over to my place every Tuesday and Friday for a cup of tea. My schedule got so swamped that it was only Friday, after awhile. And then a month went by and suddenly...it was not at all. _

_ I was secretly so relieved to hear that she’d been recruited by Master Ava. It was one more thing that wasn’t a weight on my mind, that no matter what was brewing in Daybreak Town, we wouldn’t be separated by it. If I had been asked to leave her behind...I would’ve refused then and there. _

_...perhaps I should’ve refused after all, Strelitzia. _

The voice, when it speaks, sounds almost afraid. 

_ “You don’t need memories of me to drag you down. It’s better off like this. Really.” _

“I don’t believe you.” With one hand, he reaches up, trying to guess where the face of the ghost should seemingly be. “Now that I’ve remembered your name.”

_ “My...name? You remember it?”  _ The voice sounds as if it is desperately trying not to hope, and failing utterly.

“Of course,” The tears continue, and he is powerless to stop them, tightening into a knot in the back of his throat that strains his voice. “Strelitzia.”

With a quiet gasp from the voice itself, and all the force of a single tremor of an earthquake, crystal blooms beneath his hand, as it collides with something not quite there. Spilling out from where his fingers landed, silver threads knit themselves together into a parody of being, glimmering veins that coalesce into shape and pseudo-being.

A girl, of around fifteen, looks up at him with bleary and tearful green eyes, painted in the muted shades of unreality. Her long auburn hair hangs loose around her shoulders, falling almost to her knees. The white dress she wears is unadorned, save for some loose black threads around the collar where a trim must have once been attached. 

He can’t speak. There are no words left.

_ Why is she here? How long has she been like this? Was it something I did? Is she alright? Is she eating well? Did Master Ava know it would fall apart like this? Where are the others? Am I...dreaming? _

_ Even so, even if it is only a dream, there’s no doubt it’s really her. I know my own sister when I see her. _

_ “You still think so loudly.”  _ Strelitzia’s voice is muted, compressed with whatever emotion she seems to be forcing down.  _ “In that respect, you haven’t changed at all.” _

_ That’s right...I’m older than when we last spoke. But she...she looks so much the same as I remember her. _

“Strelitzia.” His mouth presses into a firm line, drawing in a breath. “Why are you...here?” 

Her expression shifts, and even back then, back before a teenaged Lauriam had ever had to look his own demise in the face and lie through his teeth to stay alive, he could’ve seen the falsehood for what it was.  _ “I’m just a figment of your imagination. A remnant memory, hidden deep in your heart.” _

...ah. If only that were the case.

“Alright.” His hands, which had thus far been hovering uncertainly before him, reach out and settle on her silvery incorporeal shoulders. “Now, tell me the truth.”

It has been a very long time since he has used that tone. The gentle sternness, the closest he could achieve back then in the absence of parenthood. It has never once failed him, as Strelitzia has never once been able to successfully lie to him.

Her shoulders are shaking slightly beneath his grip, and her chin ducks down to hide away the shimmery recreation of her face.  _ “I’m...I…”  _ It seems as though she’s not far from tears herself.

It ceases to matter, what the answer to his question is. His baby sister is  _ here, _ and she’s  _ talking to him, _ and it’s been so  _ long. _

With a single breath, he draws her up and properly into his arms, face buried in the top of her head. Strelitzia shudders, and with a sound that must be a sob, her face is shoved into his chest, shoulders shuddering properly as she cries in earnest, crying crystal tears that sparkle like diamonds in the nothingness around them.

They hang in the balance, suspended in nothing. The darkness around them does not press inwards, but it does not give them leeway. It simply is.

“Strelitzia.” He murmurs her name like a prayer, and perhaps it is. “Where were you?”

She doesn’t answer for a long moment, but her quiet sobs stutter, and then fade away, leaving only the remorseful silence.  _ “...I’m sorry, Lauriam.” _

_ Lauriam. That’s my name...that’s right. I’d completely forgotten, until she said it. All I knew was that I was her brother. Nothing else seemed to matter to me in that moment. _

“I looked for you. Everywhere.” He’s forced to take a deep breath to steady his nerves. “You never made it to the Daybreak Town that the rest of us were in, did you.”

It’s not really a question that needs an answer, or rather, he already knows the answer to this particular question, but her head gives a slight shake in response, numbly confirming what he’d already guessed to be true.

“Then…” He almost doesn’t want to know the answer to this one. “Where were you?”

She shudders again, and instinctively, Lauriam draws her even closer to his chest, if possible.  _ “...I don’t know who it was. But I...it wasn’t a normal day.” _ There is a slight hitch in her ethereal voice.  _ “I was...looking for someone.” _

Looking for someone...misty conversations with faces he hasn’t seen in years filter back, and the torrent of emotions they engage in his newly formed heart is overpowering. 

He whispers a name to her, a name that was sitting untouched in the farther reaches of his memory, a name only ever attached to the unremarkable face of Ephemer’s friend. Strelitzia nods sharply in response.  _ “Yes, but...how’d you know?” _

“An elder brother always knows.” It was meant as a jest, but it pricks against the edges of old wounds, wounds from where an elder brother did  _ not _ know, and was left uselessly waffling around in the vain hope that his oversight was simply due to blindness and not the lack of what he was searching for.

_ “...of course.” _ She huddles closer to him, and for an instant, he can pretend that she is flesh and blood and not a see-through mass of silvery threads and fervent wishes. They are alone in the darkness, but they are finally together, even if just for that moment.

_ Strelitzia. The sister I love more than life itself. _

The instant passes in a sudden flash.

_...luxia.  _

_...riam? _

_...ke up. Plea… _

A different voice is calling his name. The threads and fibers of his being are being pulled away, drawn out of the nothing as the veracity of his existence returns to him.

An unrelenting sky hangs above, staring down mercilessly as it’s fiery potent sunlight rips into the calm expanse of darkness. There is no reprieve, for the existence that he is dragged into. 

Lauriam startles awake with a hoarse sound, ripped suddenly into the light of being. The dust and sand in the air of the desert graveyard is thick around them, and the light in the sky proclaims a gentle midmorning.

The woman is leaning over him, and from the expression on her face, he’d guess that she’s been trying to rouse him for some time now. “...Lauriam?”

His body feels limp, seemingly not interested in doing anything but continuing to lie there like a sack of potatoes. “Ye-” he has to stop to clear his throat, “Yes?”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the expression on her face was relief. It’s been such a long while since he’s seen anything of the sort cross her features that it looks almost alien, for a moment. She leans back, lips curling up into what can only be a smile. “You’re finally awake, lazybones!”

The muscles of his neck and back awaken with a quiet protest, as Lauriam forces himself up and into a sitting position. “Have you been waiting long?”

The last time this happened, they’d woken up together in similar conditions. It had been a few short moments of indecision and awkwardness and desperately trying to find their bearing, until suddenly Xigbar had popped out of nowhere and promptly set the tone for the next few months.

This time, it seems unlikely that they’ll be similarly interrupted, but who can really tell with the company that they’ve kept over the years. Despite all this, the woman next to him smiles even wider. “An hour or so. Keykid really did a number on you this time, huh.”

The sudden reminder that he has owed at least half of his deaths to a self-taught baby-faced fifteen year old is unwelcome at best, but he might as well be used to it by now. “Very funny. I’m certain you didn’t escape unscathed either, knowing their merry crew.”

Elrena, as he’s been referring to her in his head ever since she’d smiled so widely without a single hint of malice, huffs and glances away. “Truth be told, I was out a few minutes after you, so if you’re looking to get filled in on whatever the hell happened after that, I’ve got nothing.”

Well. That answers some of his questions and raises several more. Instead of pondering them, he simply tilts his face up to the clear blue sky. “I see. Then I suspect you didn’t manage to catch wind of whoever ended up victorious?”

Slouching, she follows his gaze up to the cloudless expanse. “No clue. But hey, seeing how this dump is still here to welcome us back, I’m guessing it wasn’t the old fart.”

There is something itching at the side of his attention, something presenting itself as urgent that he simply can’t remember the context for. “Are you...hurt?”

Elrena tilts her head to the side, looking at him blankly. “No? Are you?” 

“...No.” Something is tingeing the moment with something he cannot identify, turning what should be peace into unrest. “I have the awful feeling I’m forgetting something.”

He has forgotten much over the last span of years, but at the very least those memories are recently returned to him. Thoughts of keyblades and masters swirl within his mind, memories of a long ago time, and the thread of events that led them from that town to here, in remains of the battlefield from so long ago. The comrades that were his fellow union leaders, and the members of his union that he’d so summarily left behind.

The younger sister, that he had drifted apart from and never saw again.

“Forgetting? Then maybe the kid clocked you on the head harder than I thought. You never forget anything.”

His last memories are of fading away, knelt before the Hero of Light within the ruined maze. Everything after that is a dark and empty haze, and he can only assume that span of time was taken up by his body knitting itself back together with his heart. It’s doubtful that he would’ve been conscious for that particular process, and even more unlikely that he’d remember it when he woke. 

But he can’t shake the feeling that this time, there is something very specific that he can’t recall. Something sharp and poignant like a diamond, something that has left him with such a sensation of loss and grief that he can barely think of anything but the pressure that’s been built up within his chest.

“-ey.” Suddenly, he becomes cognizant of Elrena’s gloved hand waving back and forth in front of his face. “Earth to Lauriam.” 

He wrinkles his nose at her. “I’m pleased to see you remember that much, at least.” She won’t understand the statement in its entirety, which is frankly a blessing for both of them at the moment.

Indignantly, she crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at him through her lashes. “Well that’s a nice way to talk to your partner in crime. Are you this boorish with every girl you talk to or is it just me?”

“You’ve always been special and you know it.” With a sound of dismay as his back gives a displeased  _ crackle, _ Lauriam rises to his feet. Last time this had happened, the capacity to corridor was taken from them when their humanity was returned. If the same process had occured this time, it was going to be very...inconvenient.

...he’s definitely forgetting something. There’s no reason for his chest to ache like this without a definite catalyst. Even as Elrena snarks back like usual, he barely has the attention to listen to what she’s saying, thoughts inwardly converging into a swirling mess.

_ Was there something more, that I just can’t remember? Some...specific memory, or a face I can’t quite place? _

_ What more could I possibly be forgetting? My heart has returned to me. The lost past is mine once again. What else could there be? _

_...tch. It can’t be helped. I’ll either remember or I won’t. It’s probably just a side effect of the past coming back all at once. I’m bound to forget a few little details like this. _

_ Then why...do I feel like crying? _  
  


* * *

_ When the cold of winter come _

_ Starless night will cover day _

_ In the veiling of the sun _

_ We will walk in bitter rain _

_ But in dreams _

_ I can hear your name _

_ And in dreams _

_ We will meet again _

_ When the seas and mountains fall _

_ And we come to the end of days _

_ In the dark I hear a call _

_ Calling me there _

_ And I will go there _

_ And back again _

_ fin. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics at the end are taken from The Fellowship of the Ring.


End file.
